


Lollapalooza

by TheGatsbyGirl



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - 1920s, Drama, Drug Dealing, F/F, F/M, Gang Violence, Implied/Referenced Prostitution, M/M, Organized Crime, Protection Racketeering, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2018-11-15 16:05:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11234451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGatsbyGirl/pseuds/TheGatsbyGirl
Summary: 1922 is a time to be alive. The années folles is in full swing, the economy is booming, and the nightlife of Paris is more alive than ever. But it's also a dangerous time to be alive. The crime syndicate lead by the mysterious Hawk Moth is lurking behind every corner, and they show no mercy. Luckily, Paris has two brave souls willing to protect it from the akuma's wrath. But how? And what happens when love gets in the way?





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chat Noir goes to another party, expecting to keep Paris safe from Hawk Moth’s gang for one more night. But tonight, he should be expecting the unexpected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A dictionary of the slang terms used in this chapter can be found in the end notes.

The night was golden, boozy, and prime for Chat Noir.

  
It was a simple party; he went to those often enough. It had become routine to him: sneak out of his bedroom window, transform behind the house where his father would never see him, find the latest bash being thrown, snoop for trouble, and stop Hawk Moth’s gang before anyone noticed. Plagg would always tell him he had to get himself a girl, but Chat would never listen. He just liked the atmosphere. Not to mention taking out baddies was far more fun than it should be. Nobody would tell him he needed to stay shut up inside when he was out here. Nobody would ask him for an autograph.

  
And most importantly, Paris would be safe for another night.

  
Chat surveyed the crowd of glittering party guests, Nino and the rest of his band catching his eye. Nino’s fingers were moving like lightning on his trumpet, and his tune was just as electrifying. Of course. He shouldn’t have expected anything but the best from Nino. What Chat wouldn’t give to just spend a night dancing and laughing and having fun. But…that just wasn’t the life he had been chosen for. There were more important things to take care of.

  
He first noticed something was off when he saw two men shaking hands. One was tall and slender with dark hair and very strange-looking gloves. The other was much shorter, chunkier but definitely a big six under his jacket. Nothing too strange about that. But he noticed that they lingered near one another, leaning in close and whispering something. Hmm. They could be Hawk Moth’s cronies. Not too implausible a thought; Hawk Moth’s gang was _everywhere_. Passing drugs in dimly-lit alleyways, handing beautiful girls to leering men, armed with choppers around people’s rooms. “Akumas” he called them. They were everywhere. Even at this party.

  
A couple seats away from the two men, a gangly redhead clutched a small glass filled with golden liquid. Chat could see the redhead’s knuckles turning white.

  
“Possible target,” he mumbled. Chat squinted and looked a little closer. The man looked like Nathaniel, the artist who did a portrait of him and his father a while ago. A very talented man, but poor as could be. Even with a high-paying portrait job, one couldn’t make much money selling paintings on the street.

 _  
It’s probably nothing,_ he thought to himself. _Nathaniel’s a nervous guy. Those men might not even be akumas. Just relax, Adrien. Have a drink. Do some dancing._

  
Chat strode over to the bar, trying to look as inconspicuous as he could. Or at least, as inconspicuous as someone wearing a mask and cat ears _could_ look. Surprisingly, the men didn’t notice him. But when he ordered a gin rickey, the bartender was far less tolerant. He mixed the drink with a frown on his face, shoving the glass at Chat when he was done.

  
“Thanks,” he said, picking up the glass.

  
The bartender grunted and gave him a final nasty once-over.

  
Chat’s eyes drifted to his right as he sipped the rickey. Fortunately, the men still hadn’t noticed him. The tall one paused by the counter, casting a sidelong glance to the redhead. Looked normal enough. Except for one thing that managed to catch Chat’s eye.

  
A pin.

  
A butterfly-shaped pin on his lapel.

  
Chat took a swig of his highball and set it on the marble counter, grinning. “ _Definite_ target.”

* * *

Trying to follow akumas from a distance was challenging. Besides the temptation of beautiful girls beckoning him onto the dance floor and Nino’s music begging him to dance, he ran the risk of running into something. Or something running into him.

  
Of course something had to bump into his shoulder just as Nathaniel ducked into the dark alleyway that sat between the two buildings across the street.

  
“Sorry.”

  
Oh. Some _one_ ran into him.

  
It was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Adrien saw her around the set sometimes. She was a pretty thing, dark hair cropped short, button nose, pale pink dress that fell like petals. He was willing to bet that she made that dress, considering she designed all his costumes.

  
He took a step back. “Sorry little lady. Didn’t see you there.”

  
Marinette looked him up and down with the bluest eyes. “This isn’t a costume party, you know.”

  
Chat shrugged. “I like to make an impression.”

  
Judging from the look she gave him, she probably thought he was completely crazy. “Well, you certainly are. Excuse me kitty.” Marinette brushed past him, looking to the alley. The akumas were on Nathaniel's tail.

  
Chat smiled. “You should try it sometime! Making an impression is pretty fun!”

  
Marinette looked over her shoulder. “Maybe I will!”

  
He shook his head and continued on his path away from the party.

  
When he finally managed to navigate the sea of people and make his way across the road, Chat took a good look at his destination. The alley was dark and the stone lining the walls and ground was prime for cracking someone’s skull. It was no surprise that the akumas picked it to bump off Nathaniel.

  
The artist was wringing his hands and leaning against the wall. In the darkness, Chat could make out the frame of a tall figure coming closer. He ducked behind a trash can, peeking his head out from the side to see. His staff was in his sleeve. His eyes were focused. He was ready.

  
The figure cleared his throat. “Quite a party, huh?”

  
The redhead turned to look at him as he stepped into the dim light. It was the taller one. The man with the strange gloves. Nathaniel smiled and nervously smoothed back his hair. “Uh…yeah. Real swanky. Um…how’s your evening been?”

  
“Oh, I’ve had better. It’s been a perfectly lovely night…” he moved in closer, casting a shadow over Nathaniel’s eyes. “But I’ve had the misfortune of talking to a piker.”

  
The color drained from Nathaniel’s face as a brightly gloved hand pinned him to the brick.

  
The big six was back, taking his place behind the other akuma’s shoulder. “Listen, buddy. Your deadline was tonight. Tonight at eight o’clock. What time is it now, Animan?”

  
The shorter one, Animan as he’d called him, grunted and pulled out a pocket watch. “Eight thirty.”

  
“Well whaddaya know. Eight thirty. Thirty minutes too late.”

  
“I know. I’m going to pay him! I just need to work for a few more days, just until I can make enough—”

  
The taller one clicked his tongue against his teeth. “We don’t take kindly to men like you. It’s important to be punctual.”

  
“I know, but I really don’t make much money, all I have is—”

  
“Simon,” Animan said. “It’s time to shut him up. Search him.”

  
The man called Simon patted down the trembling boy, fishing a wallet out of his pocket. “This is all he’s got.”

  
“Alright then. Do whatever you want. But the boss wants me to end it.”

  
Simon grinned and opened his blazer, revealing a revolver strapped to his chest. Nathaniel whimpered as the barrel was pressed under his chin.

  
“Simon says apologize.”

  
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I’ll never pay him late again, take everything, take whatever you want, please…”

  
“How about we take your life?”

  
He was starting to cry now, his pleas teetering on the edge of sobs. “No! Please, I have a family…”

  
“They won’t be any worse for the ware. It’s okay. It’ll be over quick.” He pocketed the revolver and gestured to his partner. “Animan, finish the job.”

  
Animan took off his blazer and reached behind him, peeling tape from his back. A tommy. Nathaniel didn’t stand a chance.

  
Not without Chat.

  
The akumas were very confused when they saw a blond haired man with cat ears running towards them like greased lighting. They were even more confused when he shouted “cataclysm!” 

  
Chat’s hand closed around the metal nose pointed at Nathaniel and the tommy was gone in a burst of purple and black.

  
Normally Chat would have laughed upon seeing the look on Animan’s face. He was completely dumbfounded. But he didn’t have time to laugh. He yanked his staff out of his sleeve and knocked the wind out of Simon’s gut after disorienting Animan with a bonk on the head. Chat looked at Nathaniel. “Go! Now!”

  
Nathaniel didn’t need to be told twice. By the time Animan pulled himself back onto his feet, Nathaniel was out of sight.

  
“Shit! Simon, the piker’s gone!” Animan snarled and grabbed Chat’s arm. “Who the hell are you?”

  
“Chat Noir. Surrender now before the cops get here.” The akuma’s grip on his arm tightened. Simon rose up, breathing heavily and wheezing.

  
No. He wasn’t wheezing. He was… _laughing_.

  
His shoulders were back. Head held high. As if nothing had happened. He scoffed and raised a gloved hand. “Bad kitty.”

  
Chat’s cheek burned as he hit the gravel. He squinted, trying to make out what they were doing through blurry vision. _Hang in there Chat, just a minute, the miraculous will work its magic soon and you’ll feel right as rain…_

  
Simon was muttering something to Animan. He managed to hear the words “boss” and “trouble” through the pounding in his ears. Then Simon’s footsteps, loud as open fire against the ground. Louder with each step closer. The sole of his shoe was driving the air out of Chat’s throat.

  
Simon fished his revolver out of his pocket and handed it to Animan. “Shoot the kitty.”

  
The foot came off of his throat and Chat gasped, trying to take in as much air as his lungs would hold. But the gun was against his heart.

  
“Simon says…” Chat was fading. “ _Never_ mess with Hawk Moth.”

  
His thoughts were slow. _The bullet won’t kill you…not while you’re transformed…_

  
But the suit could only protect him so much. What would happen to him?

  
Then…a blessing. A savior. A lifesaver.

  
It came in the form of a yo-yo.

  
A bright red yo-yo that whizzed through the air and wrapped around Animan’s wrist. He paused, looking at the spotted circle. “What the hell…”

  
A slender hand yanked the yo-yo’s string and sent him crashing to the ground. Animan lost his grip on the gun, letting it skitter onto the gravel next to him.

  
“Son of a bitch. I’m bleeding.”

  
“Aw, what a pity. I suppose that’s how your mug shot will look.”

  
Who was that? Chat Noir followed the yo-yo as its wielder wound the string around their finger, stepping further into the light with each wind.

  
Chat’s eyes widened. Was he really seeing this, or was the lack of oxygen making him hallucinate? The figure was that of a girl, willowy and slim and a vision in red. Her midnight hair was cut into a bob and her blue eyes gleamed under a polka-dotted mask.

  
“Please let him go and come quietly. The police will gladly take you.”

  
As the girl spoke, adrenaline finally began to gather in Chat’s chest again. It was time to strike.

  
Animan scoffed. “The police? Don’t get too hasty, little lady. You don’t know who you’re—”

  
He was immediately silenced by Chat’s fist.

  
The thug fell onto the concrete and went still. Simon raced to his body, leaning down to listen for his heartbeat. Just as Simon began to stand, the yo-yo’s string found its way around his ankle. The girl yanked and he was on the ground beside Animan.

  
She strode over to Chat, standing in front of him like a guard. Geez, he must be dreaming. “You’re not getting away that easy, Simon Says,” she said. Her yo-yo flew into the air as she exclaimed “lucky charm!”

  
In a flash of red and white, a small round metal sphere appeared in her hand. The girl bit her scarlet lip. A ball? What was she supposed to do with that?

  
Simon pressed his hands into the ground, stumbling as he stood. “You bitch!” He growled as his bright hand went for Animan’s gun. Chat leaped and landed onto Simon’s shoulders, sending him to his knees. He had to get that gun away from him.

  
Simon’s elbow rammed into Chat’s chest as he clawed at his hands. Simon heaved Chat back and forth, back and forth, nails digging into Chat’s arms. His grip on the akuma’s shoulders was slipping, the butterfly was breaking free, and then the butterfly won with a final pitch backward. Chat wasn’t strong enough. Simon was aiming at the girl and all she had was a ball barely as big as the bullet that would be hurtling toward her any second.

  
The girl squeezed her eyes shut and hurled the sphere in Simon’s direction. Simon laughed and pulled the trigger.

  
But nothing happened.

  
Chat’s mouth fell open. No way.

 _  
No. Way_.

  
The sphere was lodged in the revolver’s barrel. Simon pulled the trigger again. And again. But no bullets.

  
Simon furrowed his brow and examined the barrel. “What the…”

  
Chat’s fist was against Simon’s jaw and his hands were closed around his wrists in a heartbeat.

  
“Simon says you’re under arrest.”

* * *

The girl smiled and clipped the yo-yo to the crimson band in her hair. Chat sighed. “That really _was_ lucky. Thanks, doll. I owe you one.”

  
She waved a hand. “Sure thing. Be careful. Hawk Moth can be treacherous.”

  
Chat gave a knowing smile as he smoothed back his hair. “I know. This isn’t my first party, you know.”

  
“Me either,” the girl replied.

  
Chat drew closer. “Really? I haven’t seen you around. And I’d definitely notice someone like you.”

  
It was like a hyper-awareness had taken over him. He couldn’t stop wondering if his hair was smooth, if his suit was neat. Was she annoyed by him? Was she intrigued? Amused? But those questions were overwhelmed by the way the beaded black spots on her dress glimmered, and how her cheeks were slightly flushed pink, and how her cobalt stare was so brilliant, even looking up at him under thick black lashes.  

  
“I don’t like to draw attention to myself. But I know my way around.”

  
He prayed she couldn’t hear how loud his heart was hammering. “That so? You wanna show me what you know?” He leaned in closer to her, green gaze meeting blue. She smelled like brown sugar.

  
She playfully pushed him away. “I’m not here to flirt. You’re a miraculous holder. I’m a miraculous holder. You want to stop Hawk Moth. I want to stop Hawk Moth. Why not strengthen our numbers?”

  
He hoped he didn’t look as giddy as he felt. “You want to be partners?”

  
“You can hold your own.”

  
He smiled. “I’m the chat’s pajamas.”

  
She rolled her eyes and stuck out her hand. He took it and they shook. “I’ll see you soon Mr. Cat.”

  
He puffed out his chest and put his hands on his hips. “Actually it’s Chat noir. Will I have the pleasure of knowing your name?”

  
The girl paused before running back into the shadows. “Call me Ladybug.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big six: tough guy  
> Bump off: to kill  
> Piker: cheapskate, coward  
> Chopper: synonym for gun  
> Tommy: nickname for the Thompson submachine gun
> 
> The universe this fic is set in is based on my research about 1920s Paris, 1920s New York, and the French Mafia (Milieu.) Since I’m not a French speaker, the slang used is English slang from the 20s. De-evilization is not possible in this fic. All of the akumas are in Hawk Moth’s gang of their own free will. Or against their will. But we’ll get to that later.  
> Special thanks to my friends Dana and Muii for helping me out with the world building for this fic and for being amazing reviewers.  
> For extra content including my original art, visit my [tumblr](http://kataruhh.tumblr.com) and check out the hashtag [#lollapalooza](http://kataruhh.tumblr.com/tagged/lollapalooza).


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s just another day for Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Another day of work, another night with her best friend. But something about this night seems…different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A dictionary of the slang terms used in this chapter can be found in the end notes.

_One month later_

 

Marinette rubbed her eyes and sighed.

  
She was more worn out than usual and she hadn’t even been Ladybug last night. Why had she gone to that party?

  
Easy answer. She just couldn’t say no to Alya. Not when she pleaded the way she did. The excuses were always the same. “I have an interview with someone!” “Come on, you never go out, it’s good for you to have fun once in a while!” “Adrien will be there!”

  
Leave it to Alya to know her weakness. Adrien had always been so…kind. Even on his first day on set. It was no surprise that Gabriel Agreste’s son would become the star of his motion pictures, but it _was_ a surprise that such a cold man would have such a sweet son.

  
And such a good-looking son.

  
She shook her head and pulled on her coat. Now was not the time to start daydreaming. Work was waiting. After slinging her purse over her shoulder, she stepped outside her apartment into the cloudy morning.

  
Alya was waiting outside, leaning against the banister with a wide smile and a newspaper in her hands. “Extra, extra, read all about it! Blue-eyed bluenose Marinette Dupain-Cheng went to a party!”

  
Marinette narrowed her eyes at the journalist. “I go out more than you think I do. And it’s all your fault!”

  
Her friend looked at Marinette with her brows raised above her glasses. “Adrien was there!”

  
Marinette walked down the steps as Alya folded the paper and slipped it into her satchel. “So?”

  
Alya smiled and took her best friend’s arm. “So, did you have fun?”

  
“I’m not that kind of girl.”

  
Alya pulled on the sleeve of Marinette’s coat. “Well _I_ am. And let me tell you Mari, Nino’s music is the bee’s knees! I could listen to him play all day!”

  
“And all night, I’m sure.”

  
Alya gasped. “Marinette! We’re not even going together yet.” Marinette snickered. _Yet_. Everyone knew that Alya and Nino had been carrying torches for each other since god knows when. All Nino had to do was work up the courage to ask her out.

  
“Did anything else happen at the party?”

  
“Actually yes. I landed an interview with Mr. Bourgeois about the picture. What’s it called, ‘Dreams of the Past?’”

  
“Yep.”

  
“So I’ll be at the studio on Thursday to interview him and keep you company!”

  
Marinette smiled. Alya at the studio would make things ten times easier. They stopped at the office as Alya gave her friend a quick hug. “I won’t be done with work until about 6. Can we still go out?”

  
“Of course. I’ve still gotta work on Chloé’s hat and do Adrien’s pants pockets.”

  
“Well I wouldn’t be a friend if I kept you from getting into Adrien’s pants.”

  
Marinette laughed and shoved Alya towards the door. “I’ll meet you back here at six. And be sure to tell me what you write in the ladybug column.”

  
“Will do Ms. Fashionista,” Alya said, waving. “Have a good day!”

* * *

 “I said no!”

  
Marinette groaned. Of course Chloé had to start drama at ten o’clock in the morning. She walked over to her station, picking up the jeweled headpiece that she’d been slaving over for the past three days.

  
“I’m not going to wear that. Not in a million years!”

  
Correction: of course Chloé had to start drama with _Marinette_ at ten o’clock in the morning.

  
“Chloé, sweetheart, it looks beautiful on you,” Mr. Bourgeois said.

  
“That color is just sickening! I won’t be seen on the silver screen looking like some dumb dora!”

 _  
You already look like a dumb dora,_ she thought. _Every day._

  
Sabrina, Chloé’s personal assistant, placed a hand on the starlet’s shoulder. “Um, Chloé…the picture is in black and white. Nobody will see the color—”

  
“Dry up, Sabrina! Nobody asked you!”

  
Sabrina looked at her feet, glasses slipping down her nose. Marinette would never understand why Sabrina stayed with Chloé. An occasional expensive gift was no excuse for being treated like a slave.

  
She let her attention drift back to finishing the headpiece and began to sew on another piece of lace. Then a shadow fell over her work and Marinette somehow sensed that this shadow had blond hair and blue eyes.

  
“Marinette, you _have_ to change the color of this dress. It’s hideous.”

  
Marinette’s eyes stayed on her sewing. “I can’t. That dress took me two weeks to make. Making a new one would stall production.”

  
Chloé scoffed and threw the dress onto her table. “I don’t care!”

  
Marinette set the headpiece down and lifted up the dress. It really was some of her finest work, but Chloé didn’t care about the countless hours she’d spent at her sewing machine or the sleep she’d lost over it. Chloé just cared about herself. And Marinette had just about had it. 

  
“Just because your father owns the studio doesn’t mean you can boss people around.”

  
Chloé crossed her arms. “Listen, Marinette. This picture is starring _me_. Everyone sitting in the audience will be there to see _me_. And let me tell you, they do _not_ want to see me in this color! It’s all wrong!” 

  
A voice piped up from across her station. “But Chloé! They won’t see the color—”

  
“Sabrina, I said _dry up!_ I’m talking to Marinette!”

  
She held the dress out to Chloé, stare narrow and lips turned downward. “Either wear the dress or your birthday suit.”

  
Chloé was fuming, but she snatched the dress back and stormed off. As Marinette watched her go, Ivan gave her a nod of approval. Marinette sighed and nodded back. Ivan was the best security guard in all of Bourgeois Studios, and the kindest man to boot. He had recently popped the question to Mylène, his longtime girl, and ever since then he’d showed up to work glowing.

  
Then Adrien Agreste walked through the door and Marinette was the one glowing. Today he looked especially sleek in a white jacket and a black shirt. As he walked toward her, she silently began to pray that her hair wasn’t too messy and that her breath was okay.

  
Then he was in front of her. “Hi Marinette. How are my trousers coming along?”

  
Her cheeks were growing hot. “Uh, I’m almost done in them.” _Oh no. My life is over_. “Uh, I mean I’m almost done _with_ them! _With_ them! Just gotta finish the pockets, line the pockets, then they’ll be done.”

  
He laughed and Marinette had never heard a sound closer to sunshine. “Thanks, Mari. Also, my jacket is a little tight in the shoulders. Can we fix that?”

  
“Of course. Name a time and place. Happy to do it.”

  
He smiled and the sun shone on her. “You’re brilliant.”

  
“Adrien!” Called Nathalie, the director. Well, not really. Gabriel was the director. But he was never on set. Marinette had been working at Bourgeois Studios for over a year and she’d never seen him in person. Nathalie was his secretary and the one who ended up directing most of his movies for him. Mr. Bourgeois should have started giving her the credit for all the work she did. “We need you for this take!”

  
He turned and walked towards the set, looking back at Marinette with a warm green gaze. “Take it easy, Mari.”

  
She sighed and pulled her needle back through the lace edging Chloé’s hat. First this, then Adrien’s pockets. Only two tasks. But today was going to be yet another long day.

* * *

The café was filled with a dull orange glow and the music of Jagged Stone. Marinette was almost out of breath after a very long rant concerning Chloé.

  
“Nerts! Honey, I’m so sorry you have to deal with her. I can’t even put up with her for a few minuts. Are you sure you don’t want a real drink? It might help you relax a little.”

  
“I have work tomorrow.”

  
“Exactly. It’ll be so much easier to deal with Chloé if you’re not sober!”

  
“But it’ll be even harder to deal with her if I have a hangover.”

  
Alya pursed her lips. “Fair point.” Her hazel eyes drifted to the stage. “Jagged Stone sure is a talented guy.”

  
“Oh yeah. I can’t believe he’s here! Nino’s never played with him before, has he?”

  
Alya took a sip of her drink. “I don’t think so. He’s getting more popular by the day. You know…” she leaned across the table, her voice lowering. “Word on the street is that he’s a fan of dope.”

  
Marinette’s mouth formed an o. “Really? Jagged Stone? That’s gotta be a lie.”

  
“It’s just what I heard.” Jagged thanked the crowd and stepped off the stage, the band following him. “But I’d need dope too to believe I was talking to someone like _that_.”

  
Marinette cocked her head to the side. “Someone like what?”

  
Alya smiled. “Someone like that. Do you see her? Over by the stage. Air tight. Dress you’d kill for.”

  
Marinette turned to see a woman by the stage talking to Jagged. That dress _was_ worth killing for. Beaded orange and white, hugging her figure like a dream. A perfectly quaffed auburn bob. Eyes as sharp and mysterious as a fox.

  
She left a deep red kiss on Jagged’s cheek and sauntered over to the bar.

  
Marinette slammed her hand on the table, making the ice in Alya’s drink clatter. “She just kissed Jagged Stone!”

  
Alya furrowed her brow. “Maybe they’re going together.”

  
“But wouldn’t you have seen them together already if that were the case?”

  
“Hmm. Maybe she’s a gold digger.”

  
Marinette looked back over her shoulder. The woman was sitting at the bar next to someone. He was tall and broad, in a suit darker than night with a red tie. Then he stood up and left.

  
“Alya, I’m going to go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

  
Her friend nodded and Marinette stood, walking towards the bathrooms. After finding a corner where no one was looking, she opened the clasp on her purse. “Tikki!”

  
A little red creature flew out of her bag and sat on Marinette’s shoulder. “What’s up Mari?”

  
“That girl over there with the orange dress. Something about her seems off to me. Does she look strange to you?”

  
Tikki squinted. “Her necklace looks familiar. But I’ve never seen her before.”

  
The girl stood up and placed her hand on the back of the man’s chair, lingering there before exiting the café.

  
“Marinette, I can feel something wrong. Find a phone somewhere and call the cops. I’m going to follow her.”

  
“Do I need to transform?”

  
“Not now, but stay on alert.”

  
“Okay. Make sure you stay low. Be safe.”

  
Tikki smiled and whizzed out the door.

* * *

The kwami flew through the door so fast Marinette didn’t even see her until she was perched on her shoulder again.

  
“What did you see, Tikki?”

  
“The man talking to her came out and joined her. She told him to tell the mime that he has to send some snow the rocky way. I don’t know what it means, but I _do_ know it’s Hawk Moth’s doing.”

  
Marinette bit her lip. “I’ll figure it out. I called the cops, but I’ve gotta get back to my table. I don’t want to worry Alya.”

  
She walked back to their table only to find that Nino was sitting in her place, leaning across the table and reaching for Alya’s hand.

  
“I’ve been working on some new tunes. Maybe sometime you can come by my place and I’ll play something for you.”

  
Alya’s eyes were smoking and her smile was giddy. “I’d like that a—Marinette!”

  
Nino whipped around to look at the girl standing behind him. His hand immediately recoiled and he clumsily stood up. “Uh…hey Marinette. Sorry, I was just talking to Alya. I, uh…I’d better get going. Alya, I’ll see you later?” 

  
Alya stood up and placed a hand on Nino’s shoulder. “Ab-so-lute-ly.”

  
Nino walked away, his face breaking into a smile that could split the world.

  
“Mari! You’re back. I was beginning to think you’d left me here.”

  
Marinette took her seat again. “I wouldn’t do that and you know it. But it’s getting late. Should we head home?”

  
“We can if you want to. I’ve had my drink, so I’m good for the whole night.”

  
“And you can tell me about what happened while I was gone on the way home.”

  
As they walked away from the café, Alya gushing about Nino, Marinette caught a faraway glimpse of two police officers holding a beautiful woman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bluenose: an uptight person  
> Bee’s knees: the best  
> Carry a torch: have a crush on  
> Dumb Dora: dumb girl  
> Dry up: shut up  
> Nerts!: an exclamation, similar to “holy crap” or “oh my god”  
> Air tight: very attractive  
> Ab-so-lute-ly: just what you think it means
> 
> A note I forgot to mention: all of the characters in this fic are aged up to their mid twenties. As always, thank you to my friends and quasi-editors Dana and Muii and thank you to all of you for reading this.  
> For extra content including my original art, visit my [tumblr](http://kataruhh.tumblr.com) and check out the hashtag [#lollapalooza](http://kataruhh.tumblr.com/tagged/lollapalooza).


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bourgeois Studios faces more internal drama and Adrien learns something interesting from an unexpected source.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A dictionary of the slang terms used in this chapter can be found in the end notes.

Poor Marinette.

  
She really didn’t deserve all the crap Chloé gave her. Chloé gave everyone crap, but it almost seemed like she especially liked to pick on Marinette. Adrien almost felt bad being friends with her. Were they even friends? Chloé was the only thing he had that was close to a friend. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He’d been getting to know Nino more lately and he was a really swell guy. Maybe they could be friends.

  
Filming with her was always difficult, but this time it would be especially so. Since they were in love. Not just in love; they’d done that before in at least three pictures. They were in _love_. “A love that stops time” according to the poster.

  
Adrien sighed. If only Ladybug were starring in the film with him. Then he wouldn’t have to act. He wished he could have seen Jagged Stone’s show at the café last night. Nino had stopped by the house and told him that the cops were there and there were some shady dealings going on. And he was willing to bet Ladybug put a stop to it.

  
He poked the soggy bread of his sandwich. Lunch break was agonizingly slow today, but he told himself that he should be grateful for the time off. This was good time that he could use to eat and watch the big centerpiece scene being filmed.

  
The set was really something to behold. A beautiful matte painting of a canyon complete with fake rocks and a ledge. He just hoped that a beautiful set would lead to beautiful acting.

  
“Okay, great job,” Nathalie said. It was another day of her taking over for Father, who was absent (to nobody’s surprise.) “Can we do another take?”

  
Chloé’s face scrunched up in Théo’s arms. “Do I have to?”

  
“Yes.”

  
She shook Théo off and rose, putting her hands on her hips. “Why can’t I kiss Adrien?”

  
Natalie pressed the heel of her hand against her temple. “Because he can’t do the stunt. And this is all one shot. We’ve been over this, Mme. Bourgeois.”

  
“Why can’t Adrien do the stunt?”

  
“Because M. Agreste doesn’t want him to.”

  
For once, Adrien was grateful about his father’s precaution. This time it saved him from another kiss with Chloé.

  
Théo crossed his arms. “Nathalie, are we going to do another take?”

  
Nathalie looked at Chloé straight in the eye as she said “yes.”

  
Thank God for Nathalie. And thank God for Théo. How Father had found such a great stunt double Adrien would never know. He made a quick mental note to thank him after they were done with the take.

  
“Alright, cameras ready?”

  
The men behind the camera held up their thumbs.

  
“Actors ready?”

  
Théo took a breath and got back on the ledge. “Ready.”

  
“Ready,” Chloé huffed.

  
“Action!”

  
Théo fell off the ledge, tumbling in midair and somehow falling gracefully onto the ground. Chloé came racing to his side, sobbing melodramatically through her anger. Then Théo sat up as if nothing was wrong and took Chloé into a passionate kiss. Or at least as close as they could come to a passionate kiss.

  
“Cut!” Nathalie yelled. “Théo, excellent work. Mme. Bourgeois…good. Both of you take a break.”

  
Théo wiped his forehead as Sabrina handed him a pack of cigarettes. Adrien grimaced. Smoking was such a nasty habit, and Théo did it all the time. Really it was a marvel that Nathalie managed to get him on film without a cigarette between his lips.

  
He was just about to stand when the Prima Donna herself came running up to him with Sabrina in tow.

  
“Adri-kins! Was I brilliant in that last take?”

  
He ran his hand along his gelled hair. “Uh…yeah, Chlo. You were great.”

  
“I knew it! I wish M. Agreste would let you do the stunt. Then I’d get to kiss _you_.”

  
Adrien’s lips narrowed. “Well Chloé, Father is just thinking about my safety. And Théo is doing a really good job. Sometimes even I think he’s me!”

  
Chloé looked over her shoulder at Théo, who was lounging on a studio chair and exhaling smoke. “Well he’s _not_. And his mouth just tastes gross! All ashy. Disgusting!”

 _  
Ugh. I_ really _didn’t need to know that Chloé_. Her hand was on his shoulder in a way that he assumed was supposed to be flirty.

  
Fortunately, another much larger hand tapped his other shoulder and Adrien saw Ivan standing in front of him.

  
“Hey Adrien. The boss told me to be your alarm clock for the day. Hope that’s okay.”

 _  
Thank god_. “Yeah, of course. Thanks Ivan!”

  
“Umm…Ivan. I was talking to Adrien.”

  
Ivan met Chloé’s scowl with a shrug.

  
She gritted her teeth. “Whatever. Sabrina! Re-do my makeup!”

  
Sabrina wrung her hands. “But Chloé, Nathalie said that you won’t have to be on camera again for another—”

  
“Sabrina! Don’t make me tell you to dry up again. We are re-doing my makeup. Right now!”

* * *

“Any specific reason you decided to save me from the starlet’s wrath?”

  
Ivan shrugged. “Boss’s orders. But he didn’t say why.”

  
Adrien pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “It’s like he thinks I’m still a kid. During my birthday I was having a drink and he said ‘aren’t you too young for that?’ I’m 24! Does he not even know how old his own son is?”

  
Ivan’s brow sank. “I’m sorry, Adrien. It must be really hard to have a dad like M. Agreste.”

  
Adrien sighed. He shouldn’t be spilling his troubles like this. “No need to be sorry. How’s Mylène?”

  
Ivan’s face lit up. “She’s great. We’re still looking for an apartment and she thinks she might have found something.”

  
Adrien’s eyes gleamed. “That’s great!”

  
“Yeah. I really am a lucky man.” The bodyguard clapped him on the back. “Well, I just thought I’d tell you in case I’m around you more often today.”

  
“Thanks!”

  
Ivan smiled and walked back to his usual place by the studio door. Adrien placed his hand on the top of his hat. He still had a few precious minutes of his lunch break to just sit and relax.

  
Until his stupid hat decided to intervene.

  
“Ask him about the butterfly,” a muffled voice said.

  
Adrien lifted the brim of his hat where a little black creature met his gaze. “Plagg, someone could hear you! Stay quiet!”

  
Plagg beared a toothy grin. “If you’re talking to Ivan, you won’t have to talk to Chloé.”

  
Green eyes quickly scanned the room to make sure they didn’t encounter any other glances. “I don’t want to make him talk to me,” Adrien whispered. “Father’s already making him hang around me all day. I don’t want to be a bother.”

  
The kwami looked up at him. “You know I’m right. Maybe this baby grand can help us out. Give us an idea of how Hawk Moth is using his miraculous.”

  
Adrien looked down at the ring on his finger and felt a pang of guilt. Ivan definitely didn’t want to be Edisoned at a time like this. And really Adrien didn’t want to have to do that. Ivan was a nice guy. A really nice buy. But he had a duty to uphold. If he knew more about Hawk Moth, he’d know more about how to keep the city safe.

  
Paris was more important than his friend at this moment.

  
He dropped the brim of his hat and rose from the chair. Along the way he passed by Marinette, almost done with the hat at long last. And when she waved and forgot all about the hat until it was on the floor, he couldn’t help but chuckle to himself.

_  
Focus Adrien. This is urgent. The fate of hundreds or a clumsy coworker. Which is more important?_

  
No one had come through the door. Ivan was alone. This was it.

  
“Ivan?”

  
“Yeah?”

  
He looked back down at his ring before meeting Ivan’s eyes. “Why did you leave Hawk Moth’s gang?”

  
Ivan’s face turned from contentment to ice in a second. His eyes darted around the studio like akumas were everywhere.

  
“Oh no. I’m so sorry, I’ll just—”

  
The bodyguard grabbed Adrien’s hand and dragged him to Marinette’s studio area. Fortunately she was still working on that stupid hat, so she didn’t notice when Ivan ran straight into Chloé’s dressing room with Adrien in tow.

  
“Ivan, are you screwy? Chloé will kill you!”

  
He pulled the door shut and pressed his back against it. “I don’t care. This is…this is some pretty important stuff. I want…I want someone to know this. People gotta be safe out there.

  
Adrien patted Ivan on the shoulder. “Okay, Ivan. You can tell me whatever you want to. I was…just curious.”

  
Ivan nodded and released a breath. “Hawk Moth has some sort of way of getting information. But…I don’t think it’s spies.”

_  
Nope. It’s a miraculous._

  
“He knows things that nobody knows. He…found out about Mylène. I don’t know how. I never told anyone there about her, I never I didn’t even live with her at the time. But he found out. And he said I’d be sorry if I didn’t at least do him one last favor.

  
“It was a while ago. I was one of his first akumas, ya know. But I guess I was dispensable, ‘cause I got outa there without much trouble. It’s all thanks to Mylène. She found me one night. Patched me up. That was what did it. After that I was gone. Never looked back.”

  
Adrien gave Ivan a quick hug. “You’re brave, Ivan. You did the right thing.”

  
“Be careful out there, Adrien.”

_  
I will, Ivan._

_  
A cat always lands on his feet._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Swell: great  
> Mme: abbreviation for “madame”  
> M: abbreviation for “monsieur”  
> Alarm clock: chaperone  
> Dry up: shut up  
> Baby grand: big guy  
> Edisoned: questioned  
> Screwy: crazy
> 
> Thank you to Dana and Muii for always being there to put up with my ravings about this fic and thank you for reading.  
> For extra content including my original art, visit my [tumblr](http://kataruhh.tumblr.com) and check out the hashtag [#lollapalooza](http://kataruhh.tumblr.com/tagged/lollapalooza).


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two confrontations in the day and night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A dictionary of the slang terms used in this chapter can be found in the end notes.

“Father? Are you home?”

  
Adrien wasn’t expecting an answer. The only answer he got was the marble echo that greeted him every day.

  
He trudged up the steps until getting to his room where Plagg flew out from under his hat.

  
“Thanks for talking to your friend back there,” he said. “Now we know a little more about how the butterfly works. Ya know, maybe I should get rewarded for giving you that bright idea.”

  
Adrien walked over to his drawer and picked up a piece of camembert. Plagg grabbed it before Adrien could even hand it to him.

  
“You’re welcome. That thing’s been stinking up my room for the past week!”

  
The kwami mumbled a thank you with cheeks full of cheese. Adrien pulled off his shoes and loosened the tie around his neck. He was getting ready to unbutton his shirt when he heard someone outside his door.

  
“Adrien?”

  
“Father!” He re-fastened the buttons he’d undone and approached the door, pulling it open.

  
Gabriel Agreste was dressed in a fine suit, as usual. Hair slick and shining, as usual. Cigar between his fingers, as usual. 

  
“You…you weren’t at the studio again.”

  
He gave his son a curt nod. “I had some urgent business.”

  
“More urgent than the picture that you’re directing?”

  
He took a puff from his cigar and glared. 

  
“I’m sorry. That was rude. But a lot happened on the set today. Chloé caused drama again, poor Nathalie had to get her back in line…it’s hard to make a picture without the director. Father, I don’t know from nothing—”

  
“Don’t talk like that, Adrien. It’s uncivilized.”

  
Adrien’s nails dug into the skin of his palm. “I have no idea what you’re doing. We barely ever talk. Nathalie’s been having to do your job for you. She’s very stressed and she does enough for us already. Can’t you just take a day off from whatever it is you do and come to the set? Just once?”

  
“My business is very important, son. I have to work to provide for you.”

  
“That’s banana oil and you know it.”

  
“Adrien,” Gabriel said, pointing at his son with his smoking cigar. “What did I say? It’s uncivilized to talk like that.”

  
“Father, you could retire now and we’d be set for life. You don’t have to tell me everything you’re doing, but a clue? A hint? Please. I need _something_.”

  
Gabriel put the cigar between his lips, eyes burning like the smoking tip. Warm smoke hit Adrien’s face.

  
“I was at the storage warehouse sorting out incoming sets. Nathalie told me there was a problem, so I ordered some backdrops from a new seller. I was meeting the seller and negotiating prices.”

  
Adrien twisted his ring. “Thank you for telling me. I’m sorry I got in a lather. Er, I mean, I’m sorry I got angry.”

  
“Apology accepted.” He leaned down and placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “But listen to me. Don’t ask about my business. It’s complicated; you wouldn’t understand.”

_  
Father, I’m 24 years old, you can’t keep treating me like a child._

  
“I do what I have to do. Just stay out of my business, son. For your own good.”

  
Then the hand left his shoulder and he was gone.

  
Adrien fell into bed, Plagg landing softly beside him. “Damn. I really am sorry, kid.”

  
Adrien’s voice was muffled through his pillow. “It’s okay, Plagg. Not your fault.”

  
“You need a drink or somethin’?”

  
His words were choked. “Unless you can make a gin rickey, I’m good.”

  
“Okay.”

  
Sometimes Adrien wished he could be Chat Noir all the time. Chat Noir didn’t have a father who wouldn’t give him the time of day. Chat Noir wasn’t treated like a baby.

  
Chat Noir never cried.

* * *

Jagged Stone was dying.

  
That was the only thing that could explain this. Everything was empty; even singing. His days were shorter than his temper and his nights made everything even more unbearable. He needed it and he didn’t have it. Yet.

  
Then he saw his face.

  
It was a mystery how a man in bold stripes and face paint could blend into the shadows so effortlessly.

  
He approached the main cautiously, a bit unsure whether he was real or just another shadow following him.

  
“Are you real?”

  
He held his hands up against an invisible wall before patting himself down. The man nodded vigorously. He was real.

  
“Do you have it?”

  
The Mime said nothing, but slowly reached into his pocket to hold a tiny packet in front of the musician.

  
Bloodshot eyes widened as he reached towards it. But the mime was smart, and Jagged should have expected this by now. Akumas took the money first.

  
The Mime’s fingers beckoned as Jagged handed him a thick roll of franc notes. He smiled and let Jagged’s shaky hand close around the packet. The singer squirreled it deep in his pocket and the akuma tipped his hat.

  
“Thank you,” Jagged breathed.

  
The Mime leaned against the wall as he watched Jagged leave. Boss’ orders had been carried out.

  
Snow had fallen the rocky way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know from nothing: don’t have any information  
> Banana oil: nonsense  
> Get in a lather: get angry  
> Squirrel: to hide
> 
> If you can’t tell Jagged Stone is going through withdrawal. I’ve never written from the point of view of an addict and I don’t have any personal experience, so it may not be very realistic. I researched symptoms of cocaine (Stone’s drug of choice) and came up with this. And I know this chapter is pretty short, but Thank you Dana and Muii as per usual. I miss you both very much.  
> A great big extra-special thank you to [alazic02](http://alazic02.tumblr.com/) for drawing [this BEAUTIFUL fanart](http://alazic02.tumblr.com/post/163673247580/fic-appreciation-week-day-3-under-appreciated-gem). I'm still not over how gorgeous it is.  
> For extra content including my original art, visit my [tumblr](http://kataruhh.tumblr.com) and check out the hashtag [#lollapalooza](http://kataruhh.tumblr.com/tagged/lollapalooza).


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ladybug and Chat Noir deduce who their next opponent might be and explore the unknown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A dictionary of the slang terms used in this chapter can be found in the end notes.

“You look beautiful, as usual.”

  
Ladybug sighed, wondering if the day would ever come when Chat Noir didn’t try to flirt with her. It had become part of the routine. Another party, another night of scoping for crime, another night of feline advances. His lips met her hand.

  
“Who knew a big timer could be this melodramatic.”

  
Chat’s eyes flicked up to her. “Did you just call me a big timer?”

  
Ladybug’s eyes bugged out like her namesake. “What? No! Of course not! I think you’ve had one too many drinks.”

  
He brought her hand to his cheek, cradling it between his own hands. “Never such thing as one too many rickeys.”

  
She was about to pull away, but she let him hold her hand there for a moment. After all, it wasn’t doing any harm. “You’re awfully particular about your juice.”

  
“I want to know _your_ particulars, bugaboo. Let me buy you a drink.”

  
She drew her hand away and crossed her arms. “If I say yes will you promise to stop asking?”

  
Chat straightened, placing a gloved hand over his heart. “I swear on my nine lives!” He offered his arm, and she tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow, careful to leave space between them. 

  
The bartender looked like he’d been struck with one of cupid’s arrows the second he laid eyes on Ladybug.

  
She gave him a cherry smile along with her order. “A French 75 please. Extra lemon.”

  
He nodded and smiled like an idiot. “Of course! Anything for you, Ladybug!”

  
Chat was a green-eyed monster in the flesh. He was practically hissing when he slid a banknote across the marble. Ladybug sipped her drink, trying not to laugh at her jealous partner-in-crime.

  
“Thanks, fella.”

  
The bartender swooned and walked away to attend to another customer at the other end of the bar.

  
“Um…” her partner cleared his throat and tapped her shoulder. “Ladybug, there’s something important we need to talk about.”

  
She took another sip and rolled her eyes. “ _Chaton_ , if I’ve told you once I’ve told you a hundred times. Paris is more important than romance.”

  
“No, that’s…” he began to twist his ring around and around his finger. “It’s about Hawk Moth.”

  
She turned to him in an instant. “Hawk Moth? What? A new dealer? More kidnapped girls?”

  
“I found out some information about the akumas,” he said. “I can’t be sure, but I think I have an idea of his secret weapon.”

  
Ladybug grabbed his wrist and Chat tried to focus on the butterflies they were fighting instead of the butterflies in his chest.

  
“What is it?”

  
“Blackmail. He uses his miraculous to get blackmail.

 _  
Blackmail_. That made a lot of sense. Sure, most of the akumas were voluntary, but maybe there were some who didn’t want to work for him. Maybe there were some who were forced into it.

  
“How’d you find this out? It could be a lie.”

  
“I talked to a guy who used to be an akuma. Told me that Hawk Moth threatened to hurt his girl.”

 _  
A former akuma. A former akuma with a girl._ “Ivan!”

  
Chat paused. “Yeah. How’d you know that?”

  
“I, uh…I’m friends with someone who knows him. I’ve met him a couple times. He’s a real stand-up guy.”

  
Fortunately, Chat didn’t question her any further. But if it came from Ivan, it was the truth.

  
She took another sip of her drink. “I learned something too. I was out the other night and saw something that looked like one of his dealings. My kwami did a little sleuthing. We overheard one of the akumas talking to a girl about a mime sending some snow the rocky way.”

  
“A mime, huh? Whaddaya think that means?”

  
“Not a clue. Maybe it’s an akuma. There’s been chin music floating around about a man in face paint who deals with dope fiends.”

  
“Really?” Chat knit his eyebrows under his mask. “Akumas are supposed to blend in. It’s a little odd that one of ‘em would wear face paint.”

  
“True, but you and I know akumas, and you and I know that they like to put on a show.”

  
Chat nodded. Despite being constantly on the lam, akumas had a penchant for making an impression. Then again, so did he.

  
“So do we think that there’s an akuma called the mime?”

  
Ladybug nodded.

  
“And do we think he deals with the drug branch of Hawk Moth’s syndicate?”

  
“ _I_ do. But what’s the kitty’s opinion?”

  
Chat smiled. “I’m fee- _line_ that you’re right.”

  
She rolled her eyes and held out a hand. “Next time we rendezvous, we look for him. Deal?”

  
He took her hand and shook, repeating their victory ritual. “Deal.”

* * *

“Dance with me.”

  
“What?”

  
“Dance with me.”

  
She looked at him quizzically. “Are you serious, Chat Noir? We were discussing some serious stuff.”

  
“That was forever ago. Now we’re just sitting here and you look too beautiful to be just sitting here.”

  
He stood and stuck out his hand with a flourish.

  
“My lady, I may not know much about you, but I know you ain’t a canceled stamp. Dance with me.”

  
She groaned and laced her fingers with his.

  
Nino was at it again, this time playing a slower tune against the sultry voice of the singer onstage with him. Other couples populated the floor, leaning close and letting hands wander. Ladybug and Chat Noir eventually joined them, swaying to the music.

  
She smiled and looked down. “I’m surprised some other girl hasn’t tried to steal you. We’re practically celebrities.”

  
His thumb stroked the beaded spot at her waist. “They know there’s only one girl for me,” he said. They continued to sway, his fingers skimming back along her waist and grazing her hip.

  
How long had they been dancing? It couldn’t have been too long. But they were surrounded by less people than before.

  
“I could dance with you forever,” he sighed.

  
“We have priorities, Chat Noir.”

  
His hand moved from her waist to her back, pulling her closer. “Yes we do. This is mine.”

  
Ladybug could feel Chat’s heart hammering against her chest. And yet she didn’t pull away. Her brain was saying this was wrong. This was unladylike. This was not her. But was it wrong to be curious? Was it wrong to explore?

  
His smile was like champagne; sparkling and potent.

  
Was it wrong to want a taste?

  
She felt his breath on her lips when he stroked her cheek and settled a thumb at the corner of her mouth. “Cash or check my lady?”

 _  
Not tonight_ , she thought. _One drink is enough_. She took his hand and set it back at his side, leaning close to his ear as she whispered “bank’s closed.”

  
He let go of her, feeling like he might melt if he kept his hold any longer. She began to walk away, pausing to look back at Chat Noir.

  
“Goodnight, _chaton_.”

  
As she left the party, Ladybug couldn’t help but giggle. Look where her curiousity had led her.

  
Curiousity killed the cat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big timer: a charming and romantic man  
> Chin music: gossip  
> Dope fiend: addict  
> On the lam: on the run from the law  
> Canceled stamp: synonymous with wallflower  
> Cash or check?: do we kiss now or later?  
> Bank’s closed: no kisses
> 
> Finally, some LadyNoir. In case you couldn’t tell, it’s my favorite part of the love square. Sorry that there hasn’t been a lot of action thus far. It’s coming, I promise. Thank you to Dana and Muii and thank you for reading.  
> For extra content including my original art, visit my [tumblr](http://kataruhh.tumblr.com) and check out the hashtag [#lollapalooza](http://kataruhh.tumblr.com/tagged/lollapalooza).


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ladybug and Chat Noir triumph and fail over the rescue of an innocent and the loss of a criminal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A dictionary of the slang terms used in this chapter can be found in the end notes.

The day was actually going surprisingly well.

  
They’d gone without too many complaints from Chloé, gotten a lot of scenes shot, and to top it all off Alya was there, scribbling notes and cracking jokes at Chloé’s expense.

  
Alya tugged at Marinette’s sleeve and cracked a smile. “How’s this sound? ‘ _Dreams of the Past_ comes to the Present: A Cinematic Victory.’”

  
Marinette shook her head. “Too corny. You’re writing for a movie, not for a superhero.”

  
“I can’t help it. I just started working on a new report for the Ladybug column. You know she took out two guys _and_ one of their molls last night? They were trying to sell another girl and she defeated ‘em with just a handkerchief and her fists!” 

  
Marinette rolled her eyes. It wasn’t a handerchief, it was a scarf, and all she did was throw it over their eyes. But despite her exaggeration, Marinette was honestly touched by Alya’s devotion to the column. The ladybug earrings had changed her life almost as much as they’d changed Marinette’s.

  
“Focus, girl. The Ladybug column will still be there when you get back. I do my job, you do yours.”

  
Alya’s attention turned back to her writing. “‘ _Dreams of the Past_ : an exclusive look at Agreste’s latest picture.’”

  
“Better.”

  
“It’s just hard to write a comprehensive article when Ladybug is calling me!”

  
Marinette’s heart lifted. “I’m sure Ladybug appreciates the column and the writer behind it.”

  
“Alya! Hey Alya!”

  
The girls turned to see a tall figure waving at them.

  
Alya gasped. “ _Kim_? Nerts! You just keep getting taller. It’s been forever!”

  
The figure came closer and it was indeed the king of competitions they knew in secondary school. Kim smiled and bent down to kiss Alya on the cheek. She laughed and Kim met Marinette’s eyes. “Hey Marinette. How’s the picture going?”

  
“Normally, it depends on the day. Today, pretty swell. What are you doing here?”

  
“I heard from Max that Alya was working here today, and since the factory isn’t too far I thought I’d stop by and say hi during my lunch break.”

  
“You two still close?”

  
Kim hesitated before smiling again. “Yeah. Best pals gotta stick together! He’s working at the university right now. Loves it.”

  
Ever since their school days, Lê Chiến Kim and Max Kante had always been close. While the other boys were messing about and chasing girls, Kim and Max sat by the sidelines laughing with each other.

  
Kim cleared his throat. “Well, I just wanted to see you two again. Thanks for not kicking me out, Marinette.”

  
“Yeah of course! Don’t hesitate to stop by whenever you want. And if the bimbo at the door says you can’t get in, tell him that you’re a friend of mine.”

  
“Will do!”

  
Kim strode away, towering above everyone else in the studio. What a nice surprise to see Kim again. Alya watched him go before pointing her pencil at Marinette.

  
“Okay, I’m going to interview Adrien but I need to make sure we’re still going to the cabaret after work.”

  
“Absolutely. The show is supposed to be the bee’s knees. Is Nino still joining us?”

  
Alya blushed. “Yeah. And you’re sure you’re okay with it?”

  
“Just don’t neck in front of me or anything.”

  
Alya crossed her heart. “You have my word.”

* * *

Marinette really shouldn’t have gone out at all.

  
She could barely hear herself think with the two of them nect to her. Alya and Nino were talking about…something. She really couldn’t hear, considering they were practically whispering to each other. Whatever it was it was making Alya giggle. His hand was on her _waist_ , for Pete’s sake.

  
At least Tikki was sleuthing for her. And at least the show was entertaining. Rose Lavillant sang as dazzlingly as she dressed. Marinette almost wished she had designed her costume; all feathers and pearls on a petite pretty girl.

  
But it had been half an hour. And that was when she was supposed to find Tikki.

  
“Alya, I’m going home.”

  
No response. Of course.

  
“Alya? _Alya_?”

  
She jumped and looked up. “Oh! What Mari?”

  
“I’m going home. I forgot to leave my rent out for the landlord.”

  
“Oh. Okay.”

  
Nino said goodbye and thanked her for having him, and Marinette accepted the thank you with a “have a good night.” Then the two started talking again as if they’d never been interrupted. Marinette walked toward the door, bumping into someone on the way out.

  
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Marinette said. The person was a girl about Marinette’s age with long bangs and a camera in her hand.

  
“No, it was my fault,” she replied. “I…sorry.” The girl looked down and walked past Marinette, setting up her camera and fixing her gaze on Rose.

  
When she got outside, Marinette came face-to-face with Tikki, who was not wearing her usual cheery expression. “What did you see?”

  
Tikki frowned. “I think I’m starting to understand what ‘send some snow the rocky way’ meant.”

_  
Finally. Some progress._

  
“It’s a code. I think…they were talking about Jagged Stone.”

Jagged Stone.

 _  
Snow_.

  
So the rumors were true. 

  
“So…Jagged is addicted. And Hawk Moth is his supplier?”

  
Tikki’s antennae twitched. “Seems like it. There was Jagged, and there was a man. Derby hat, munitions all over his face. And a butterfly pin.”

  
Munitions. A butterfly pin. Everything was adding up. “That was him. That was the mime.”

  
“So this means you’ll have to get him.”

  
“Yeah. But I don’t want to cause a panic. And I don’t have any way to contact Chat.”

  
“Just use your yo-yo.”

  
“What? That doesn’t make any sense, Tikki.”

  
Tikki blushed. “It has communication powers. It can act as a sort of telephone. You can send a signal to Chat Noir. Just tap the yo-yo and tell it what you want Chat to know.”

  
“Um…why haven’t you told me this before?”

  
“No time for questions! Call Chat!”

  
Marinette tapped the center of her yo-yo and the wings pulled back to reveal a dim white light. This was unreal.

_  
All I have to do is speak._

  
“S.O.S. Mime. Outside the Cabaret de Quantic.” She prayed that the kwami magic would be on her side and tapped the yo-yo again.

  
“Tikki…” She raised her haid and clenched her fist. “ _Transforme moi_.”

* * *

Chat Noir was panting like a dog when he reached her.

  
“I came as soon as I could. I’m really sorry; I didn’t understand what was happening when my staff started making a racket.”

  
Ladybug nodded. “All is forgiven, _chaton_. I found the Mime.”

  
“Really? Where? How?”

  
“There’s no better private dick than my kwami. She figured it out. All you need to know is the Mime is out there and Jagged Stone is in danger.”

  
“We got a plan, bugaboo?”

  
“You call a dimbox and tell them to come here. I get Jagged and take him to the hospital. You track down the Mime and try to catch him. No miraculous tricks, no showboating.”

  
“You can count on me, my Lady. I promise.”

  
He turned in the direction of the post office, but lingered at his partner’s side. “Before I go…cash or check?”

  
“Bank’s closed. Get a wiggle on, Kitty!”

* * *

Jagged was walking along the sidewalk when Ladybug roped him.

  
At first, he was confused. But anyone who got tied up in her yo-yo started confused.

  
Then he started fighting back.

  
Well, trying to fight back was more like it. His attempt at a kick sent him falling to the ground, and his tries at a head butt didn’t even graze Ladybug’s nose.

  
“Whaddaya want? Huh?”

  
She crouched by his side, looking down at him. “I want to help you.”

  
The crease in Jagged’s brow deepened. “Crazy bitch. Let me go. I’ll give you an autograph. I’ll pay you.”

  
“Mr. Stone. Where’s the dope?”

  
His eyes widened and he became a different person.

  
It was like she had destroyed any composure left in his body. He thrashed and writhed, sweat breaking out on his forehead and “Let me go, let me _go_! I ain’t done nothing to you! Leave me alone!” 

  
Her hand dug into the waist pocket of his coat. Nothing. “I’m not going to hurt you Mr. Stone!” Her words didn’t stop his flailing, nor did they dull the panic in his eyes. When she searched his breast pocket Jagged’s movements got more and more desparate, even going so far as trying to bite her before she pinned his neck to the ground with her forearm. 

  
Her hand paused at the ridge of a paper bag.

  
Bingo.

  
“No, no no no no! You can’t! You can’t take it!”

  
The bag of powder was in her hands. She peeled it open. The particles almost sparkled.

  
“Please, please, I’m begging you…”

  
The opium slid from the paper and littered the pavement.

  
“ _No!_ ”

  
There was nothing left of the amazing singer. His voice was ragged, his smile was broken, his body was crawling across the pavement and clawing for the powder hidden in the cracks.

  
Ladybug let him lie there for a brief moment before gently unwound the string binding him. And when he beat her chest with his fists, she didn’t stop him. “Mr. Stone,” she said, her voice distorted by his hits to her gut. You can’t keep doing this.”

  
“No,” he pleaded. “You don’t understand. I’ll die…”

  
“You won’t. I know it feels horrible right now, but you just need help.”

  
Jagged’s fists lowered and he slumped into the hero’s lap. Tears streamed down his face and stained her dress. “They…they call you a hero. But you’re evil. You’re evil, you’re killing me, you’re…”

  
She wiped a tear from his cheek. “No. But I’ll kill the real evil.”

  
Ladybug held the shaking Jagged Stone until the shine of headlights broke up the dark.

* * *

He was safe.

  
Ladybug had gently sat him in the taxi and told the driver to go to the hospital and check him in. When the driver asked why he should, she forked over a week’s salary.

  
Then she found her partner.

  
He was standing with his back against sporting a new bruise and a bloody lip. When he saw her, his knees buckled and she grabbed his shoulders before he sank.

  
“Ladybug…I’m so sorry,” he said. “I tried, I managed a blow to his face, but he was so big, he had a gun…”

  
“Ssh.” She held his hand and squeezed. “It’s okay, Chat Noir.”

  
He shook his head. “No, it’s _not_ okay, I promised you I wouldn’t take any wooden nickels and I came back with a goddamn _fortune_ , I should have been stealthier, I shouldn’t have just leapt at him and asked him if he worked for Hawk Moth, what kind of idiot would do something like that—” 

  
Ladybug’s lip quivered and she pulled him into her arms. “Damnit Chat, _don’t apologize_!” His fingers dug into her shoulders and her collarbone muted his cries. “Chat. We made it out. Like we always do. We’re _alive_.”

  
On another night, Chat would have pressed his head into her neck and breathed nothing the scent of brown sugar. On another night, he would have stared into her face until he went blind.

  
But tonight all he could see was the Mime’s face glowing as he grinned from ear to ear and escaped into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moll: a gangster’s girlfriend  
> Bimbo: tough guy (I know the word has the reverse meaning today, but it retains its old meaning in this work)  
> Bee’s knees: the best  
> Neck: make out  
> For Pete’s sake: same meaning as today  
> Munitions: face powder  
> Private dick: private eye  
> Dimbox: taxi  
> Cash or check?: do we kiss now or later?  
> Bank’s closed: no kisses  
> Get a wiggle on: hurry up, get a move on  
> [Don’t] take any wooden nickels: don’t do anything stupid
> 
> Ugh.  
> This chapter.  
> School just started and I have to finish my college essay and start writing my supplements, plus I have homework to stay on top of. It also doesn’t help that I’ve been having a MAJOR case of writer’s block lately.  
> Dana and Muii helped me get through my writer’s block here, so thank you guys, as always.  
> Also, in this universe the yo-yo and staff are still objects connected to the miraculouses, but they are also actual objects that exist when our heroes are out of costume.  
> For extra content including my original art, visit my [tumblr](http://kataruhh.tumblr.com) and check out the hashtag [#lollapalooza](http://kataruhh.tumblr.com/tagged/lollapalooza).


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time has come for Ladybug and Chat Noir to take down the Mime. But defeating him will take a bigger toll on them than they thought, and they’ll discover they have a long way to go before making it to the heart of Hawk Moth’s gang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A dictionary of the slang terms used in this chapter can be found in the end notes.

Adrien prayed that Marinette wouldn’t notice the dark spot beneath the makeup caked onto his cheek. The last thing he needed was for someone to find out where he’d been.

  
“Thanks for doing this,” he said. “I can’t tell you how frustrating it’s been not being able to raise my arms!”

  
Marinette was tomato red. “Of course. It’s no problem.” She fumbled with the hems at his ankles.

  
“Um…you know, I just need to get the shoulders fixed. My pants are fine.”

  
She gasped and immediately stood up straight, knocking into a mannequin behind her. “I’m so sorry! I mean, I knew your shoulders had to get fixed but most people need things shortened so I just assumed. I won’t do that again.”

  
Adrien patted her on the back in acceptance, but that didn’t seem to help, because she backed into the mannequin again.

  
“Is your father going to be stopping by the set sometime? I’m dying to have another one of his macaroons.”

  
“Oh. Um, I can definitely ask him. He’d be happy to bring something by.”

  
She began to trace along his shoulder seams, somehow redder than before. It was really a marvel how Marinette could do this. Then she took a seamripper and gently pulled at the stitches.

  
“Thanks a lot, Mari,” he said. Marinette nodded and slid a scrap of fabric between the open seams. “Really. You do a lot, and I know that it can be difficult to work here sometimes.”

  
She smiled. Mari was cute when she smiled. “Fashion is my life. I get to work with Ivan and you—” Marinette was so red he could feel the heat coming off her cheeks. “My friends. I can work with my friends.”

  
Adrien smiled. “So we’re friends?”

  
Marinette sewed the seams shut and Adrien swung his arms. She was close enough for him to catch the scent on her jacket. Brown sugar.

  
“Well—yeah. Yeah, Adrien.” She made one final stitch and her work was done. “We’re friends.”

* * *

“So how are we gonna find this Airedale? Need me to sniff him out?”

  
“Chat, you’re not a dog.”

  
Chat Noir pouted. Normally the akumas came to them, but the Mime didn’t count as ordinary. So here they were, scouting the streets like private dicks. “Do we know where he usually hangs around?”

  
Ladybug shrugged. “I’ve only ever seen him in dark alleys.”

  
“Those seem to be the only places we ever find akumas.”

  
Fair enough. But that didn’t help anything. Where did Hawk Moth hang out?

  
“Maybe we should check around the downtown area. Most of the places we’ve spotted him have been around there. Start with the streets, check old buildings, then look in new ones if push comes to shove.”

  
Chat Noir nodded and took her hand. They headed downtown, making sure to look in every new crevice they came across. Ladybug peered down the roads, looking for a silhouette against the walls. Nothing. Chat even peeked through the grate of a sewer, insisting that maybe the Mime was where he belonged. Nothing. Time to move on to buildings.

  
He definitely wasn’t in the old hotel. That place was nothing but a cesspool of rats and mold. It wasn’t even safe to enter the place. Onto the never-finished library.

  
It really was a shame that they never finished the place. Ladybug could tell it would have been a beauty. The cut stone walls were dirtied with age, the ceiling above them sagging and raining dust. The building seemed to be sound enough. Not a bad place for an akuma to make his home.

  
Chat kicked a spare piece of stone. “I’m not seeing any signs of him.”

  
“I don’t know. I’ve got a funny feeling. Places like this are just too good to pass up, ya know?”

  
Chat knit his brows. “Wait, I see somethin’.”

  
He crept to the back and his hands closed around cool glass. “My lady? I got it. It’s some sorta glass.”

  
“It’s just a broken bottle,” she called over her shoulder. “Probably just some rummy who needed a place to spend the night. Don’t pay it any mind.”

  
“No. It’s way too small. The label on it…you might not be able to see it because it’s so dark, but it doesn’t look like any juice label I’ve seen.”

  
Through his night vision, Chat Noir could make out the letters b-a-y.

  
Bay.

  
Like  _Bayer._

  
“My lady…he’s here.”

  
A dull thud came from above them, sending a shower of dust raining down from the ceiling.

  
“ _Chaton_ …does this building have a second floor?”

_  
Thump._

  
Chat bit his lip. “I didn’t think so, but it sure  _sounds_  like it.”

  
They knew the sound of footsteps all too well, and they knew enough to be sure there was a man slowly making his way down splintery stairs.

_  
One more step. Then another._

  
Ladybug unclipped her yo-yo, ready to swing. Why was he so slow? Why couldn’t he just hurry up and spare them the waiting for him to get here? 

_  
Third step. Fourth._

  
The bastard was taking his time, he knew they were nervous and he was relishing it, the  _bastard_ …

_  
Fifth._

  
A shadow crept across the wall, followed by a shiny black shoe.

_  
Sixth._

  
Both feet were on the ground, standing in front of them, tall and leering with a chopper under his arm.

_  
Seventh._

  
“Letting your guns talk for you, Mr. Mime?” Ladybug asked. Chat put a hand on her shoulder, but she didn’t push him away. Now wasn’t the time to refuse defense.

  
The Mime’s expression twisted into an exaggerated frown, shoulders shaking and back hunching. He was even terrifying when pretending to cry. 

  
Chat Noir hissed, fingers twitching around his staff. “What’s your connection to Hawk Moth?”

  
The Mime’s shoulders stopped moving and his face snapped up to look at them. His smile was back, this time accompanied by narrow eyes.

  
“Lemme ask you again. What’s your connection to Hawk Moth?”

  
He responded with a flying bullet that Chat quickly blocked with his staff. “You dealing dope for him?”

  
Another bullet, this time aimed at his head, and Chat Noir ducked, swinging his staff out and striking the Mime’s legs. “You hoppin’ up Jagged Stone?”

  
As the akuma crumpled, Ladybug landed a kick to his stomach. When she leaned in she could smell the stale alcohol on his breath. “Answer his question, fella. We just wanna know about our butterfly friend.”

  
The Mime struck Ladybug’s mouth, knocking her head to the side. As she stumbled, the Mime caught Chat’s wrists and kicked him so hard that he went flying.

  
“Ladybug…run!”

* * *

The sound of bullets hitting eroded stone was deafening. Even when he ran out of bullets and re-loaded it was too loud and too fast. They were in trouble. Real, serious trouble.

  
Chat had somehow managed to drag himself behind an unfinished wall barely taller than he was. Ladybug joined him, panting, shaky, and eyes unable to keep still.

  
“Ladybug…what are we gonna do?”

  
“I’m still trying to figure that out.” Okay. What could they do? There was a small pile of stone resting beside them. If they had enough force, one of those would be ducky for knocking the sucker out. But there was no way she was letting Chat get close to him again. Maybe she could throw one at him?

  
No. Time for her lucky charm.

  
For a moment the fear left her as she called out for her charm and light surrounded her. But the panic set back in when some sort of cord landed in her hand.

  
Okay. Maybe a lasso? A whip of some sort? But she could just use her yo-yo if that was the case. What was this for?

  
The pile of stones caught her eye and she sighed in relief when she felt the familiar spark of an idea in her mind.

  
“Okay! I think I’ve got a plan, but we’ll need your staff and some sort of distraction.”

  
Her partner’s eyes smiled. “I’m on it!”

  
“ _Chaton_ , I’m not letting you waltz through open gunfire to fight that nut.”

  
“Ladybug. My suit isn’t affected by bullets. I’m practically invincible.” He took her hand. “Trust me. I can do this.”

  
She squeezed his hand and he rose up, preparing to pounce.

  
“Now!”

  
Chat lunged at the Mime as Ladybug strung the cord around Chat’s staff. At least now there was no fire to drown out her thoughts. _You’ll be fine, Ladybug. Just put the stone in the other end, be careful not to hit Chat, and then…_

_  
Let go._

  
It was as if Chat Noir sensed the stone hurtling toward them. He let go of the Mime and the stone hit the akuma right between the eyes.

  
The Mime fell to the ground, Ladybug raced to Chat’s side, and her yo-yo tightly wrapped around his wrists. She grabbed his chopper and aimed it at the mark the stone had left on his forehead. “Where’s Hawk Moth?”

  
It was the first time they had ever heard the Mime speak. “Why should I tell you?”

  
Underneath the shock of the fall, the Mime’s voice was wheezy and high.

  
Ladybug grit her teeth and pressed the barrel deeper between his brows. “Because I’ll blow your brains out if you don’t.”

  
“I don’t know. Honest. A big…it’s big…no light…”

  
Damnit, Ladybug thought. She should have considered how knocking an akuma on the head would affect their interrogation. “Who are your superiors?”

  
The Mime coughed. “The arrow and the blade.”

  
“Jesus Christ! Give us a straight answer.”

  
“The arrow and the blade…the girls and the guns…”

  
“Hawk Moth ain’t all about…dope…the girls…sellin’ the…”

  
Chat narrowed his eyes. Other branches. Other leaders. “Who?”

  
“Dark…cupid…”

  
His eyes rolled into his skull and he was out cold.

  
Chat Noir released a breath. “We did it, Bugaboo.”

  
They were shaking and could barely manage a handshake, but it was tradition at this point, and asking her cash or check was a tradition too. This time when he said it he didn’t quite mean it, and when she mumbled “bank’s closed,” he wasn’t disappointed. 

  
The walk to the police station was long. But maybe the two were just walking slowly under the weight of stress and a criminal on their shoulders. Once they arrived, they told the cops who he was, accepted their thank yous, and left. Simplicity was all they could stand by then.

  
Marinette didn’t even make it to her bed before collapsing. The armchair in her parlor wasn’t the most ideal place to sleep, but she wasn’t moving. And of course the minute she sat down, her mind couldn’t stop racing. This wasn’t even half the battle and they’d come closer than ever to breaking down. How were they going to take on Hawk Moth?

  
She closed her eyes and kneaded at the chaos in her forehead. It wasn’t time to worry about this. They were victorious.

  
For now, at least.

  
End of Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Airedale: an unattractive man  
> Private dick[s]: private eye  
> Rummy: a drunk  
> Juice: alcohol  
> Bayer: the name of a German drug company that commercialized and sold heroin  
> Chopper: tommy gun  
> Hopp[ing] up: under the influence of drugs  
> Cash or check?: do we kiss now or later?  
> Bank’s closed: no kisses
> 
> Again, I’m sorry for the delay on this chapter. It was the hardest one I’ve written so far and I had to put college applications and school first. Also just for perspective, this fic will ONLY touch on Ladybug and Chat Noir as miraculous holders (I have mixed feelings about the other holders) and it won’t involve any plot points from the second season, which I haven’t been able to watch. Unfortunately I just can’t keep up with the show as it airs. Thank you to Dana and Muii, thank you for reading.  
> For extra content including my original art, visit my [tumblr](http://kataruhh.tumblr.com) and check out the hashtag [#lollapalooza](http://kataruhh.tumblr.com/tagged/lollapalooza).


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An akuma returns to Hawk Moth and learns the hard way that he shows no mercy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A dictionary of the slang terms used in this chapter can be found in the end notes along with an overview of Hawk Moth’s crime circle.  
> Warning: homophobic slurs are used in this chapter.

It was dark in Hawk Moth’s office.

  
Strange. Moths were supposed to love the light. But the only light Hawk Moth needed was at the end of his cigar.

  
They weren’t alone. Hawk Moth never saw anyone alone. Two hard-boiled men stood on either side of him, arms crossed and eyes sharp. It had been that way ever since Kim was blindly guided to his office with empty pockets and a need for money.

  
He just prayed that it would be as easy to leave as it had been to enter.

  
“Well lookie here. It’s my favorite lover boy. You seal the deal, Cupid?”

  
A fresh bruise ached on Kim’s arm. “Yeah.” The money in his hand weighed him down. A bodyguard relieved him of the burden and handed the notes to Hawk Moth. “Don’t you care about those girls? They’ll probably never see their families again. They might die.”

  
Hawk Moth counted the money, pulling a few notes from the fan and handing them to Kim. “We all die one day, Romeo. Ain’t my fault if they go sooner.”

  
Kim crumpled the money and stuffed it in his pocket. It smelled like the bimbo who’d grabbed her around the waist and smiled with yellowed teeth.

  
That poor girl. He didn’t even know her name. He could still see weepy eyes staring back at him, hear her plead “let me go, let me go” before being stuffed quiet with a dirty rag.

_  
You say it ain’t your fault?_

_  
You’re wrong._

_  
It’s all your fault, you’re condemning these girls to hell, you’re stuffing people with dope, you’re evil,_ I’m _evil and it’s_ your fault _._

  
“I’m done.”

  
Hawk Moth froze. “’Scuse me?”

  
“Those girls…I can’t keep doing this to them. I don’t need you anymore. I’ve got a good job, a home, a life.”

  
“And a little somethin’ on the side?”

  
Kim stiffened. “I ain’t got a girl, if that’s what you mean.”

  
Hawk Moth chuckled, smoke curling from the corners of his mouth. “I know you ain’t got a girl. But I know what you _do_ got.”

_  
There’s no way. He doesn’t know, nobody does, not even the landlord knows._

  
Kim’s jaw hardened. “You don’t know nothing about me.”

  
“Don’t underestimate me, Ethel.”

  
“Don’t call me that, don’t you _dare_ call me that you son-of-a-bitch.” As Kim stepped forward, the two bodyguards put their hands on batons hanging from their belts.

  
“You should know better by now,” Hawk Moth said. “I got the goods on everyone. That includes you. You take any wooden nickels, I show what I know.”

  
Kim shook his head. “The world is changing. You think anyone cares who I love? They don’t. If they did, the Claire de Lune would be out of business.”

  
“Then why haven’t you told anyone? Are you pretendin’ that your friends won’t grimace knowing what you do in the dark? Will they even _want_ to be your friends knowing what I know? What about the other fella you’re workin’ with? You think he wants to spend hours a day around someone like you? Nah, so much easier to let you go.

  
“You see, Lê Chiến…you may pretend that Paris is changin’, that everything is all fine and dandy, but it just ain’t _right_. It ain’t right, what you like to do with boys. But if you’re okay with everyone knowin’…guess I’ll have to visit your little friend.”

  
That was it.

  
He swung his fist at Hawk Moth and immediately regretted it. One of the bimbos caught his fist, then sharp pain met his legs and he fell to the ground. A hand fisted in Kim’s hair and smashed his head against the floor. Kim screamed as the wood crushed his nose and blood filled his mouth.

  
“Careful. I don’t want no teeth marks on my floor.”

  
Blood dripped from his nose down to the gathering pool of red at his lips. “You bastard,” Kim said. “He’s never done a thing to you.”

  
“He tried to steal my Dark Cupid. You’re the only one for the job. You won’t steal any of the girls.”

  
“Shut up!” Kim yelled. Hawk Moth laughed, sending the last puff of his cigar Kim’s way. The smoke smelled so awful, it was burning and made the metal tang of blood so much worse, and god d _amnit_ now there were tears and he could only taste secondhand ash and copper and salt.

  
“You Paris to know what you are? You wanna lose your faggot sheik?”

_  
Max…I’m so sorry…_

  
“No,” he sobbed.

  
“Then you ain’t going anywhere.” The man behind Kim grabbed his wrists, tying a familiar cloth over his eyes. “Fly away, little akuma.”

  
Hawk Moth was gone when the cloth was ripped from his eyes. Whoever lead him out here was gone. Now Kim knew he could only rely on three people.

  
Max, Ladybug, and Chat Noir.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hard-boiled: tough  
> Ethel: affeminant man  
> Wooden nickels: doing something stupid, usually used with “don’t take any wooden nickels” i.e. “don’t do anything stupid”  
> Claire de Lune: a gay jazz club located in place Pigalle  
> Bimbo: tough guy (yes I’m aware that the word means the opposite of what it means now but for the sake of this fic the word retains its original meaning)  
> Sheik: boyfriend
> 
> Hooooooo boy.  
> I’ve been sitting on this chapter for a long time. Believe it or not, this was one of the first chapters of Lollapalooza I ever wrote.  
> Yes, I know I’m the worst.  
> Hawk Moth’s gang is basically the French mafia. It’s split up into three branches: drug dealing, prostitution, and protection racketeering, with three akumas leading each branch—the Mime, Dark Cupid, and Darkblade respectively. Protection racketeering is a broad category, but in the case of this fic, it’s providing security to groups outside the law (and whoever Hawk Moth orders.) Sort of like an illegal bodyguard service.  
> LGBTQ people in Paris didn’t face a lot of persecution during the 1920s. Of course there was internalized homophobia, but since sodomy had been decriminalized, there weren’t any laws restricting LGBTQ rights and gay culture was thriving. But Hawk Moth doesn’t care about any of that. He’s an asshole.  
> Updates might be slow depending on how net neutrality plays out. If you haven’t called your local office rep, I beg you to do so before December 14.  
> For extra content including my original art, visit my [tumblr](http://kataruhh.tumblr.com) and check out the hashtag [#lollapalooza](http://kataruhh.tumblr.com/tagged/lollapalooza).


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ladybug and Chat Noir’s last night was a rough night. What else would follow but a rough day?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A dictionary of the slang terms used in this chapter can be found in the end notes.

Marinette’s lack of wounds from last night barely made up for the dark circles under her eyes. But Marinette was never one to care about looks when she and Chat had almost died.

  
Everything today had gone wrong. She’d slept in by an hour, missed her walk to work with Alya, barged onto set like a crasher, and mistaken Théo for Adrien. _While Adrien was next to him_.

  
“Marinette? Marinette?”

  
“What?”

  
She turned to see Sabrina, eyes wide with worry. “Oh. Sabrina. Something wrong?”

  
“No, I just…you seem strange today. Are you alright?”

  
“Yeah, everything’s jake. I just…” _I just took down an akuma and found out that we have more to go_. “I just didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. Restlessness.”

  
“Okay, well…take it easy. And, um, here are Chloé’s notes.”

  
Chloé was just trying to get her in a lather at this point. All the costumes were done; Marinette was there to mend and alter, but if Chloé wanted a new costume, she was out of luck.

  
Even though , things on set were completely normal. Chloé was throwing a fit, Nathalie was running the show, Ivan was standing in front of the door. But he wasn’t alone. He was talking to someone Marinette had never seen on set. A girl, dark-haired and slim. There was something familiar about her, but Marinette didn’t place her until she turned and approached Nathalie.

_  
That’s right, I saw her at the Cabaret that night. The one with the camera._

  
“Hey, Mari. Do you mind if I sit with you?”

  
It was Adrien.

  
A very…tired-looking Adrien.

  
She quickly shoved her purse to the side and did a quick sweep of the crumbs on the table. “Yes! I mean, no. I—I don’t mind.”

  
He sat down beside her and unwrapped a croissant. “You look a little—”

  
“Blooey? I know.”

  
“No, not blooey,” Adrien chuckled. “You look…worn out. Did you have a rough night?”

  
“Yeah, I guess you could say that. Uh…do you know who that girl is?”

  
Adrien looked over his shoulder at Ivan and the girl. “Juleka? She’s a photographer for the paper. Nathalie asked her to drop by. She’s milquetoast but she’s good at heart.”

  
“Ah.”

  
An awkward silence and a bite of roast beef.

  
“Um…how are repairs going?”

  
“Fine. Haven’t had a lot to do, but Chloé keeps pestering me. She’s still on about the color of her dress. What about you?”

  
“Oh. Well…filming has been alright. Nathalie is brilliant, things have just been hard since—” Adrien halted and bit his lip. “Never mind.”

  
“Is something wrong?”

  
It took a moment for Adrien to respond, but when he did, his answer hit her hard.

  
“I haven’t seen my father in three days.”

  
Marinette’s mouth fell open for a few seconds before she remembered to swallow her bit of sandwich. “ _Three days?_ Where has he been?”

  
“I don’t know. I never know with him. He said he was doing business, but I can’t imagine what, and he never said anything about taking a trip. I haven’t gotten a phone call, or a telegram, or anything.”

  
In the few years she’d known him, Marinette had never seen Adrien look so sad. He was always the bright-eyed lalapazaza, taking on a bad day head on. But now his eyes were downcast and dim. 

  
Marinette patted Adrien’s hand. “I don’t know what it feels like…but your father is a smart man. I’m sure wherever he is, he’s doing fine.”

  
“Your hair!”

  
“Hm?”

  
He leaned forward and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Your hair is different today. Usually you wear these little red hairclips. You’re not wearing them today.”

  
Marinette squeaked. “Oh! I must have forgotten. It was such a rushed morning—”

  
“It looks good. I mean…it looks good with the clips; they make it so we can see your face—” Adrien blushing. Had Marinette ever seen anything more perfect? “—But…your hair looks good without them too.”

  
Of course she was tongue-tied. “I…thanks—you’re welc—thank you, Adrien.”

  
His eyelids were still drooping, but the green glint began to shine from underneath. “No, thank _you_ , Marinette.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jake: alright (i.e. “everything is jake”)  
> [To] get in a lather: get angry  
> Blooey: a mess  
> Milquetoast: timid, shy  
> Lalapazaza: good sport
> 
> Sorry not a lot happened in this chapter, but honestly, I wanted to give these kids a break. They could have DIED, let them eat a sandwich in peace. Also there’s a lot of angst coming up. Like…a LOT of angst. Thank you to Dana and Muii for still putting up with my rantings.
> 
> For extra content including my original art, visit my [tumblr](http://kataruhh.tumblr.com) and check out the hashtag [#lollapalooza](http://kataruhh.tumblr.com/tagged/lollapalooza).


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens when Dark Cupid gets his heart broken?

Kim’s apartment was small; barely big enough to fit one person, let alone a secret second. Max always told him that no one would care if they went in together; they were already inseparable, it wouldn’t make a difference, but Kim protested. What if his landlord saw? What if someone from work saw? So they compromised. Max waited until the landlord’s lights were off before coming in and left the apartment using the fire escape. Yeah it was tough, but at least they were together.

  
That was how things used to be. Now it was all late nights and nightmares.

  
Max squeezed Kim’s bicep and looked into his eyes. “It was just a dream, Kim. It’s okay.”

_  
Just a dream. If only._

  
“Sorry,” Kim mumbled. “I…need a drink.”

  
“Just water, I hope?”

  
Some whiskey would have helped him more, but Kim crossed to the kitchen, pouring a glass of water and sitting back down on the bed with a grunt.

  
Max’s brow settled low on his face. “Kim…we need to talk.”

  
Kim picked at the bandage on his nose. The break was still new, only three days since the incident with Hawk Moth. “Alright then, spill.”

  
“Stop picking,” Max said, sitting beside him. “Listen. You’ve been acting really odd lately. You come home after me, you don’t let me answer the phone, you have a _broken nose_. I’m starting to think you’re feeding me lines.”

  
Kim’s hands shook, sending drops of water over the sides of his glass. “I’m—”

  
“Don’t say you’re not, I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re lying to me.”

  
His nose was suddenly burning, throbbing, only made worse once Kim put down his glass and pinched the bandage.

  
“Stop touching it, you’ll make it worse.”

  
Kim scoffed. “Can’t get much worse, can it?”

  
Max paused, looking at him with an intensity that Kim didn’t get to see very often. “How did you get it?”

  
“I told you, I slip—”

  
“Christ, Kim, don’t lie to me! Where are you going at night? Why are you getting hurt? What are you _doing_? If there’s someone else, just tell me and get it over with.”

  
Kim’s hands fell from his face. “Max…you think after all these years I’d leave you for some bell bottom steppin’ out for the first time? I would never. It’s always you.” He rose from the bed and cupped Max’s cheek. “Only you.”

  
Max shook his head and pulled away from Kim’s grip. “Then stop bullshitting me. If there’s not someone else, what’s going on? Who did that to your face?”

  
“I can’t tell you.”

  
“Don’t gimme that—”

  
“ _I can’t tell you!_ ” Kim’s hands fisted in Max’s sweater. “I want to, I really do, I _can’t_. You don’t understand, Max, you’re in danger if I tell you, they’ll hurt you…” he was shaking now, choking on tears that he couldn’t keep Max from seeing. “I screwed up. I screwed up big time and I’m in trouble and I can’t get out…I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry…”

  
Gentle fingers curled around his shoulders, pulling Kim’s head down to fall on Max’s chest. “You really mean it?”

  
Kim nodded.

  
“Then I believe you.” Then he was leaning against the air, and there was a dread brewing in Kim’s core. “But I have to go.”

  
Teary eyes widened. “No. No, Maxie, please, you’re all I have—”

  
Max cut him off with a quick kiss that sent more tears down Kim’s cheeks. “I love you, Lê Chiến. I’ve loved you for twelve years. I ain’t gonna leave you now. But if what you say is true, I think it’s safer if we spend some time apart. Just for a little while.”

  
“Max…”

  
There was nothing he could do. Not when there were shoes on Max’s feet and a briefcase flung on the bed. He was frozen, watching his love pull on a coat and approach the door.

  
“I’ll be back when you sort out…whatever mess you’re in.”

  
Then he was gone.

* * *

The telephone was ringing. It was ringing at four in the morning and Kim wouldn’t have answered had he not known who was waiting for him at the end of the line.

  
“Hello?”

  
“Hi, I’m looking for—”

  
“It’s me. It’s me, okay, don’t put me through your password shit right now,” Kim choked.

  
The akuma snickered. “Aw, Cupid got a broken wing or somethin?’”

  
“Dry up, Darkblade,” Kim hissed. “What do you want?”

  
“We got a new job for ya. Real high payin’ client is lookin’ for a particular doll to call his own.”

  
“So set him up with one of Moth’s girls. He’s got plenty. I ain’t kidnapping another girl, you said that was a one-time thing.”

  
“It _was_ a one-time thing. But this guy’s got his sights set on someone special. Just one night, then she can go back to her mama and papa.”

  
Kim’s jaw clenched. None of those girls were there of their own free will. And he wasn’t going to hurt another one. “I won’t do it.”

  
Darkblade clicked his tongue. “No? Aw rats, we were counting on you! Well in that case, my chopper’s been needin’ some company. Maybe he’ll have to get acquainted with your little friend.”

 _  
Max at the end of a chopper. Max with a bullet through his head._ “Fine. Fine, I’ll do it, alright? Just…tell me who you need.”

  
Kim heard Darkblade smile through the phone. “Ever heard of Rose Lavillant?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feed [a] line: to lie  
> Bell bottom: sailor  
> Dry up: shut up  
> Chopper: Thompson Sub-Machine Gun (Tommy gun)
> 
> Poor Kim. He can’t catch a break. And to be honest, he won’t for a while. But his story won’t end badly. Kimax is one of my favorite Miraculous pairings.  
> Hawk Moth’s prostitution ring mainly consists of girls who were kidnapped or manipulated. They’ve only engaged in human trafficking once (in Chapter 8), but doing that did a number on Kim. My tumblr is always open for questions about the Lollapalooza universe if you’re ever confused (link below.)  
> Once again, I owe a GIGANTIC thank you to [alazic02](http://alazic02.tumblr.com/) for [her AMAZING valentine's gift from the ML Valentine's exchange.](http://alazic02.tumblr.com/post/171409361245/happy-valentines-day-to-fangurls-united-hi) Thank you, Ari! You never fail to blow me away!
> 
> For extra content including my original art, visit my [tumblr](http://kataruhh.tumblr.com) and check out the hashtag [#lollapalooza](http://kataruhh.tumblr.com/tagged/lollapalooza).


End file.
